Thursday, February 2, 2012


Spring Is Messy

For years, I hid myself from myself
quite deliberately.
I locked myself carefully under ice.

I knew I would become all consuming if I let me.
That my becoming would become me
And there simply isn't time for that.

But I failed.
I failed to freeze myself.
I fanned the flames in secret.
I harboured my fugitive self from my single-minded obtuseness
Feeding her scraps, begging for her contentment.

She was not content. She'd never intended to stay under ice forever.

I didn't want the messiness
the incessant uncertainty
the despair that settles, sickening, in the pit of my stomach

I didn't want the disruption
the financial uncertainty
the tiring hard work of being constantly, really, here

I didn't want the visions
the insights that seem to demand my action
the knowledge that no one is ready to hear.

I didn't want to drift so far away from how Everyone thinks.

Do I have to say that it's hard, to thaw?
It's hard.